Endless Rain
by RaiLei
Summary: oneshot. They were part of Avalance and the WRO. They had saved the Planet three times in a row now. But they knew their luck wouldn't hold out forever.


She _couldn't_ believe it.

No, maybe she **wouldn't** believe it.

To her mind, it was _unbelievable_; it was something that should have _never_ happened.

It was something in her many years; she had never expected to see.

Aeris' death had been horrible, having bonded with her in a couple short months.

But _this_, **_this_** was a three year, if a bit strange, relationship.

They had gone through _everything _together.

They blazed through Sephiroth and Meteorfall with nothing standing in their way. Hojo folded underneath their strength, the demented scientist falling prey to his own creations. Kadaj and his brothers were dealt with soundlessly. Although that was a sore spot – to her, at least – Cloud _wouldn't _let them help. That always brought a scowl to her tiny features.

With Meteorfall and the Advent Incident underneath their belt, they might as well make it an even stroke. _Third time the charm_ and that all that, right?

Without their knowing, Deepground had arrived on the scene – their even score.

It was going to be simple; they could take them down, no problem. With one of their side, giving them an opening, they quickly took down three of the four. Only the coveted, shadowy leader was left.

It would be their **final** match.

Sephiroth, Kadaj and Weiss – after this, they could hang up their weapons.

Although their Death Penalty and Conformer wouldn't rust or become dusty, they would be hung up none the less.

_Three_ years, _three_ villains – it was time for this to be over.

The Planet could take care of itself now, right?

Then, she had been forced to stay behind in the antechamber, '_unallowed'_ to proceed into the final battle with the newly regenerated leader. He didn't want her in the battle, and _that_ annoyed to her no end.

If only she had been there . . . maybe it would have been different.

Maybe she could have saved him, helped him.

But she had been useless, utterly useless; waiting for him to come back like some silly housewife from Midgar!

As she waited, trying to pick her way out of the ShinRa rubble, she _should_ have realized that this unique luck would **not** last forever.

One day, it would have to_ fail_ them.

But, on the eve of the final battle, when victory was at hand – fate, undoubtedly had it in for them.

They had fought the demons that had been melded with his soul many years previous. What she didn't know was that the four demons that shared his body, were taking a toll on him – slowly killing him. She had managed to **_finally_** free him from his past that held him down, making it hard for him to try and move forward with his life. But, slowly, he started to break through his ties to the horrible past, embracing the living, _allowing _himself to live.

He _couldn't_ die in a place like this.

He didn't **deserve** to die in the bowels of Midgar.

When she managed to escape the decrypted building, it should have come to her mind. A large wet drop fell onto her nose and shoulders – _rain_.

She frowned, but didn't think anything of it. It rained more often then not in Midgar, so she didn't think anything of it.

But _something_ was wrong – she could feel it.

Little did she know how right she was . . .

And that was how she found herself in the Edge Cemetery, dressed in black as she allowed the heavy rain to beat against her body. She _didn't_ care.

In her hand, freezing from the cold rain, was a single rose – the _White Rose of Wutai._

The memory made her smile warily – he had rolled his eyes and given her that silence of his when she had given herself that nickname. She hated to say it, but their time in the Shadowfox and the Shera was the last happy memory between them. It felt _so_ long ago.

Their luck wouldn't hold out forever – and they _knew_ that. But she wanted another week, day . . . a couple more hours at least.

He'd already gone through hell and back more then she could count. He didn't deserve this, but she knew it would end up like this – the writing was on the wall.

The Protomateria had been torn from his chest, placing his inner battle with Chaos to the front lines. She still froze as she thought of him lying defeated of the Nibelheim Manor's floor.

But, in the end . . . Chaos won.

The dark winged demon had overtaken him mind, body and soul in order to defeat the white winged Omega. When Omega fell, he was free of the demon, but she didn't expect the consequences.

Chaos was gone, gone back to the Lifestream, or wherever the demon had materialized from. But, she didn't except their life forces to be so intertwined – after so many years it _should_ have been expected – and with Chaos, _he_ was gone as well.

Omega was dead.

Chaos was dead.

And Vincent had been caught in the middle.

She shook her head, allowing her dark bangs to fall in front of her face. She didn't want to see this – he was supposed to be undefeatable – she had believed he would outlive her, all of them.

But, as the black coffin in front of her lowered in the rain drenched ground, she knew that was wrong.

She was going to outlive him.

She **_was_** going to outlive him, they all were.

He wouldn't pierce her with his crimson eyes anymore, answer all her ramblings with that calming silence of his and his cell phone would _always_ go to the voicemail.

And above all else, she would _never_ get to tell him what she'd vowed to say when this was all over.

The dull thud of the coffin hitting the dirt below, she couldn't help but glance down into the six foot hole. This was the _last_ time she would _ever_ see anything regarding the silent gunslinger. Tears sprung to her clouded eyes as dirt started to cover the top of the coffin, the Lifestream finally reclaiming her fallen comrade.

Standing on the edge of the hole, she had to watch the gunslinger disappear from view. Shaking her head, her grip went lax, the white rose falling from her hand to the part of the coffin not covered in dirt.

She couldn't watch this anymore. It **wasn't** supposed to end like this.

Now was the only chance she could tell him, even if he _would_ never really know.

"I said I had something to tell you when this over . . . after all these years . . . I knew that I was falling in love with you. And now, now it's the _final_ . . . **_goodbye_**."

Without another look back – she _couldn't_ look back or else her carefully constructed façade would be broken, destroyed – she left the small cemetery, her world suddenly _darker_ then before.


End file.
